Between the Lines
by The Epic Elven Twins
Summary: Throughout each summer with the Imladris twins, the girls knew something disastrous had happened in their past; here is the tale that tells you all about it. A prequel to Conversations. Part of The Insanity Collection as written by The Epic Elven Twins and based on The Mellon Chronicles by Cassia and Siobhan.
1. Chapter 1

Elladan sighed moodily. They had recently returned from a trip to Mirkwood where he had met the most beautiful elleth. She had flirted with him, and right before they left she had confessed that she rather liked him. While that had made his day it also made him regret having to go home.

Closing his eyes he pictured her: she was short, coming to about mid-chest on him, and had the most exquisite green-coloured eyes. Fair of skin and light of hair she had a delicious smile and was very graceful. Eglanóleth, her name was, and Elladan was in love.

-0-

Trelan groaned when he arrived home, having just left Legolas and Raniean. All around the house climbed, ran and shouted several of his cousins; most notably were Aunt Míriel's four. Three of them were loud and obnoxious, but Eglanóleth was the flirt. She was the one reason Trelan never brought Legolas home, instead going to the palace to see him. He did _not_ want Legolas falling for his cousin, which would have been absolutely _terrible_.

As soon as he came within sight he was leapt upon by Eglanóleth's three younger brothers and several other cousins, tackled to the ground in play. The energetic young ones never ceased to tire of bringing him down, it seemed.

Eglanóleth helped him escape by roughly pulling the brother closest in age, Ólgilon, off and scolding him. While she rebuked her siblings and cousins he ran into the house, shutting the door loudly and causing his mother and her two sisters to look at him.

Smiling sheepishly Trelan shrugged. "Sorry mother, they attacked me. I was trying to escape."

"Why, do you not want to play with your cousins?" She asked him, one delicate eyebrow rising. She sipped her tea and waited for an answer.

"Not really, mother. I…I have other things that need doing."

"I see," Meluiel replied to that. She had every idea on why Trelan did not want to play with his boisterous cousins, but had figured that perhaps he and Eglanóleth could find something to speak of, being so close in age. That had been their discussion before her son had barged in, as Eglanóleth seemed rather quiet and different than she had in the past, definitely rougher in her scolding to her siblings, and Míriel had hoped her daughter could find a kindred soul in her cousin and Trelan's friends.

Not old enough to leave her parent's dwelling but old enough to wander alone the girl had disappeared for quite some time when she was considerably younger, most notably when the young prince was dealing with some terrible things concerning his uncle. She had always been quiet but her return marked a change.

-0-

After having administered her scolding and then some to her brothers they had slunk away, their prides bruised. She settled in a high tree awaiting Trelan's return, knowing he would try to escape through another exit.

Her master had disliked the little elf when he had helped free Thranduil's spawn from the dungeons, and upon learning that one of his best pupils were related had set her task to eliminating him and anyone he travelled with. Eglanóleth was quite practiced at keeping her thoughts to herself and had not changed her attitude towards Trelan in the least.

She was a bit put out that he never allowed her near the prince as he was the one elf her master wanted, but figured she could satisfy herself with Trelan's other friends. Though her chances with Legolas were nil, he had recently had visitors, two elves from Imladris. Eglanóleth almost missed her cousin's exit from the house she was so busy thinking on the two. It was Trelan's muffled curse as he tripped that alerted her and she silently snuck up on him, grabbing his shoulder at the last possible minute.

"Valar, Lano, do not do that!" Trelan scowled at her. "What do you want?"

She widened her eyes to her most innocent look. "Who says I want something? I cannot just wish to be with the cousin closest to my age?"

Trelan gave her a long suspicious look. "Fine, come along…if you can keep up." He took off running.

Sighing, Eglanóleth hitched up her skirts to the knee and followed apace. "You say that as if you think I cannot." She said as she caught up.

Trelan ignored her, sighting Raniean and Legolas ahead as they took their sweet time heading for the King's halls. Hearing their footfalls Raniean looked back and stopped Legolas with a touch to his arm.

"We only just left you, back so soon?" Legolas said with a grin. "The cousins a bit much for you?"

"Are they not always? I wonder where they get their energy." Trelan noticed Legolas give his cousin a cursory glance. "That's Lano –Eglanóleth– and she was just going back, were you not, Lano?"

Eglanóleth gave Trelan a long stare, her face showing nothing of what she was thinking. "No, I rather think I want to stay here."

"I do not see why she cannot stay," Legolas shrugged. "Raniean and I were going to go practice archery out on the range."

Trelan looked between his friends and cousin, biting his lip. Eglanóleth did not seem particularly inclined to flirt with Legolas and was actually going out of her way to avoid his gaze, so he figured it would be all right.

"Fine, Lano, you can come with us."

She nodded her head in Trelan's direction and smoothed her skirts back where they belonged. She followed a pace behind the ellyn as they joked and chatted about the moves they had tried in training that morning. Eglanóleth frowned. She had not been allowed to join the boys in training though the king allowed both men and women in his army. Her parents had decided she was too delicate, a notion that made Eglanóleth snort.

Legolas looked back at her when she made the noise, a strange look on his face. He had seen her before though Trelan had never mentioned her before today. Thinking about it he realised he had seen her in the company of the Imladris twins.

She was pretty, he had to give her that, but much too quiet and serious for his taste. He was not particularly looking for an elleth, anyway, and one of Trelan's cousins would have seemed too strange. Elladan and Elrohir could have her, he decided.

Arriving at the ranges the three ellyn set up their targets and readied their equipment, ensuring all was well before starting. Eglanóleth settled in a tree behind and above the archers, just watching. She noted the skill the prince had, and that of her cousin and their friend. These would be hard foe to overcome but she knew ways beyond strength and skill to use.

To separate them was the key. Whereas she could not take them all at once one would be easy enough. Raniean looked up at her once, a thoughtful look on his face, but gave no sign of acknowledging her otherwise after that.

She settled into her tree and thought of the many ways one could hurt another, relishing in the emotional and mental screams her imaginary victims gave.

-0-

Elladan was already planning an excuse to go back to Mirkwood. After meeting that little elleth he felt the desire to get to know her. Perhaps she could be a right Lady of Imladris someday. The valley had not had a proper Lady since his mother had sailed, so whoever he married would be it since he was the elder twin and the next in line should his father step down for any reason.

Try as he might he could think of no suitable reason to need to return to the great forest. This irked him terribly.

-0-

"There is something strange about your cousin Lano." Raniean brought the subject up one day a few weeks after she had begun following them around. The girl gave him the serious willies and he did not like how she watched them.

"That is silly," Legolas scoffed before Trelan could reply. "She is just lonely. I think she misses the twins, actually."

"What are you talking about?" Trelan loosed his shot and turned to his friends.

"Which one of us, me or Ran?" Legolas asked.

"You."

"You did not notice? I knew I had seen her around before, though I did not know she was one of your family. She was always hanging around the Imladris group, flirting with the twins when they were not with me."

"If I recall, Legolas, Trelan and I were on patrol that entire month. We never met the twins." Ran explained.

"But it does not surprise me in the least." Trelan said dryly. He did not put it past the girl as he had seen her flirt with ellyn twice her age and station. She could disappear to Imladris for all he cared, anything to get her to stop following them. He was grateful his aunt Míriel had cornered the girl before he left the house to wrangle her siblings up, as they had to return home. He seriously disliked it more and more as he grew older when his family descended upon the house.

-0-

Eglanóleth had made her escape, seething at the chore of controlling her rowdy brothers. After thrashing them soundly she had managed to beg leave from her mother and was making her way towards the palace to put her plan in motion.

After weeks of thought and delicate planning she was ready. She had learned from eavesdropping and old plans of the halls where entrances unguarded lurked and made her way in, seeking the prince's chambers. Once there she picked the lock, an easy task that surprised her at the simplicity, and let herself in to find a proper hiding place.

She would strike that night. She had learned that Legolas liked to keep a cup of water beside the bed and had plans to drug the drink. Once he was out she would proceed to bring him to her hiding place within the warrens of the halls. There were many places that no one ventured, storerooms and the like, where she would have the privacy to hide him until her master could send his spies in to collect him.

Settling in her place Eglanóleth bided her time until the prince came to bed. Her plan was foolproof, flawless. There was no way she would fail, because failure signalled death and death was not in her plans.

-0-

Legolas yawned as he entered his chambers. Stopping in the doorway he frowned and checked the lock, thinking he had secured it that morning. Seeing no signs of forced entry in the dim light he shrugged and went in. All within the room was as usual and he thought nothing wrong as he readied for bed.

Before sliding between the sheets he first went to perch for awhile on his sill to stare at the stars, a habit he had enjoyed for years. The stars had always brought him comfort, as they did now. He could not shake the feeling that something was wrong despite the fact that there was no sign of discontent within the halls.

A knock on his door came and Legolas granted entry to his father who had made it a habit to say goodnight to his son every night. Leaning on the sill Thranduil also looked at the stars knowing the same comfort as his son at the sight.

The two hugged and Legolas climbed into bed feeling like an elfling when Thranduil bent over and laid a kiss upon his head. Before laying down Legolas went to take a sip of his water and frowned. Barely, yet still visible, the powder clung to the bottom of the glass and he took a single tentative sip. Drugged. He recognised the taste as one of the many knockout drugs the healers used.

The discovery made him look around but he could still see no sign of wrongness in the room. Uneasily he crept from the bed, grabbing his dagger and skulking about in his own room to try and find the intruder his head screamed was not there.

-0-

Eglanóleth watched from her spot in his wardrobe as the prince searched the room and silently cursed. He had seen the powder and was now suspicious. She prayed he would not open the wardrobe. She wore black dyed breeches and boots, and a dyed black long-sleeved shirt snitched from her father's closet as well as a head veil to disguise herself but to be discovered was still not in the plans. If he opened the door she would have to be ready to flee.

Her fears came true and Legolas stared at the wardrobe before going over cautiously. Slowly he began to open the door but she leapt out, causing the door to hit him in the face as she took her stance, her own knife in the ready in case he attacked her. Seeing that he was stunned by the slam to his face she quickly leapt to the sill and was preparing to jump out when Legolas caught the heel of her boot.

Shaking him off she hissed, "Take this from the true king, Usurper's son." She lashed out with her dagger at him, hitting home on his left arm and slashing a long deep cut into the skin. Before Legolas could bring his own knife up she was gone but he thought he had recognised the voice and his face hardened.

"Guards!" He yelled.


	2. Chapter 2

Between the Lines

Eglanóleth ran through the treetops as fast as she could. She could hear the guards Legolas had called behind her, but close enough for worry. This was wrong, all wrong. Her plan had been foolproof.

But that cursed prince was too sharp-eyed for his own good. She muttered breathless curses to his name as she fled, not knowing where she was going. All she wanted right now was to get far enough away that she could hide from the trackers and plan a strategic retreat. Her strength was flagging, but she forced herself to work through the pain in her legs. Pain was good, her master had told her. Pain indicated that the lesson had stuck. Her plans had gone wrong, and now this pain she faced in her lungs and legs was telling her that, for if she had not been discovered she would have walked away.

Eglanóleth did not consider this failure, as she would simply have to try again. It would be more difficult the next time around, certainly. Legolas would be prepared for something like that in the future; he was no idiot. She knew her master would be angry at this set back, but Eglanóleth steeled her nerve. She was his best pupil, he had said so time and again. He was not one to give praise as such lightly, and Eglanóleth knew this meant he was serious in calling her his best. She could not let him down.

-0-

Legolas wiggled impatiently as the healer tended his arm. He could swear the voice was familiar, but where had he heard it before? And what she -for it had been a girl- had said froze his blood. She had been one of his uncle's followers, most certainly.

Thranduil came in, his eyes showing concern though his face was otherwise impassive. He looked at the wound as Nenion stitched it up and frowned, his eyes growing dark.

"Who did this?"

"I do not know. It was a female." Legolas replied.

"In your room?"

"Yes. She hid within the wardrobe and attacked me when I approached."

"But why?" Thranduil gazed at his son in confusion. Since Legolas' return from Dorolyn he had remained close to home and certainly had no known enemies.

"She…" Legolas swallowed hard. "She said, as she slashed at me, to 'take this from the true king'…father, she was one of Doriflen's followers. I thought we had exiled them all."

"So did I. Apparently we missed one. The trackers are out?"

"Yes."

"Then she will be found."

-0-

Eglanóleth splashed into the stream and ran through the water a ways before diving into a nook carved out of the banking by the water. There she rested her aching legs and burning lungs. She knew she could not remain in Mirkwood, for even if Legolas had not recognised her the trackers would find her trail soon. She curled her knees up and held them as she tried to control the shaking from her run.

If she went back to her master without success he would kill her. He did not tolerate failure, and she had definitely failed. Eglanóleth did not want to die, not yet. Biting her lip against the stinging pain in her legs she stood and stretched, readying to run once more. Her first task was to leave Mirkwood undetected. After that she would decide where to go. Once in the mountains she could hide her trail from the forest trackers.

-0-

Míriel fretted, wringing her hands. She had left the children at home and returned to her sister's to find her eldest, who had said she would be there. Meluiel had said she had not seen the girl all day, and called Trelan out to ask.

"No, she has not been with us. Have not seen her since I left earlier."

"Where could she be?" Míriel said. "I hope she did not run away again."

Before anyone could reply a knock on the door made them take notice. Telrayn answered, surprised to see one of the elite hunter-trackers. Quickly the tracker explained what was happening and Telrayn motioned to his son as he grabbed his bow and quiver.

"Someone tried to assassinate the prince tonight. We are tracking them."

"Assassinate—Valar, who would do such a thing?"

"Do not know, but we will find out. Come on."

-0-

She could hear them following. They had fallen back, confused by her stop in the stream, but they would catch up all too soon. The forest edge was near, she knew. She had travelled this route many times. The mountains were near, and from there, freedom. She could hide and make a plan from there.

Her legs were burning again, not used to the strenuous exercise but she pushed on. She had to leave the forest that night, or all was lost. Failure was not an option.

-0-

Taurdur rubbed his hands and blew on them, trying to take the night cold out. His group were ranged around the fire, grumbling about the cold and poor fare. They were as relaxed as could be, despite the chill, not expecting anything untoward. They had been in the area for some time and so far nothing.

About to ask for the bottle of wine being passed around, wine stolen from a supply train, he stopped and listened, shushing the men. There was noise, footsteps, he thought, and rasping breath. A person, he decided, and one in distress. A cruel smile spread across his features. People in distress were a specialty of theirs.

Before the men could make a move a body came tumbling and sliding from the sheer rock face to their back, landing with a loud thump at the bottom. Cautiously Taurdur kicked at the body, earning a pained moan.

"Sîrlin, check it out." Taurdur ordered, his second in command coming forward to kneel beside the body. The man turned it so the person was on their back and removed the veil that hid the face.

"A woman, Taurdur." He said. The man lifted her by the hair, not trying to be gentle, and exposed her ears. "Not a woman, a she-elf."

"All the better. But what is it doing this far from the forest?" Taurdur wondered aloud. The elf groaned and blinked her eyes open, staring up into Sîrlin's face she jerked back in shock.

"Who are you?" She asked, using the common tongue. She scooted backwards until she hit the wall with her back.

"What, honey, afraid of us?" One of the men grinned lewdly at her.

"Just try to touch me." She spat back.

"Ah, a tough one. I like them fiery." The man replied.

"Back off Sar. I want to know why she is here." Taurdur pushed the man aside. "Well? Speak up, she-elf."

"I do not see that as your business." She bared her teeth at him.

Taurdur eyed her. She would be hard to break, indeed. But that made it all the more fun. He reached out a hand to touch her and she snapped her teeth at him, almost getting a finger.

"Do not try that again, missy." He hissed, pulling a dagger out and placing it to her neck. She grinned maniacally and leaned in, allowing the knife to prick her skin. Surprised by this Taurdur removed it and gave her a long look.

"Pain is good." She said. The light in her eyes was cold and calculating, and Taurdur began to rethink his options. Perhaps she could be useful in getting back at those cursed elves in the protected valley. A little bribery might work on this one. He sheathed the knife and sat back on his heels, watching her. When she realised neither he nor the others would stop her she eyed him warily and slunk towards the fire, snagging the open wine bottle.

She took a long swig, the wine spilling down her chin and mingling with the blood on her neck. She looked at the bottle and grinned. She knew this wine.

"Thieves. Nothing but thieves." She giggled. "You are the ones that robbed the supply train then."

Taurdur looked at her, his surprise showing clearly for a split second before his calm expression returned.

"Oh yes, I know of that incident." She waggled the bottle towards him. "I could have done it better. You were sloppy."

"That as may be," he snorted, knowing it was true, "but I have a proposition for you."

"A proposition, eh? Does this proposition include your bedroll? I will not, if that is the case."

"That remains to be seen, but no. You like pain?" She nodded. "Good, then you shall like what I have to offer."

"I am listening."

-0-

To the ignorant eye, the forest was as it should be.

Brilliant greens beneath towering trees blended together, such that it would seem impossible to know if something was out of place amongst the dappled colours, indistinct changes lost among the overall.

But to the well-trained eye, the deepest green, almost black, could not disguise the cloth tangled in the dark brush.

Kneeling, Trelan tugged loose the black material that'd struck out to his sharp eyes. It was a small piece of sheer fabric, easily missed if one wasn't attentive, and looked to have been torn in flight—perhaps their mysterious assassin's? It was the first lead they'd had for a while now, and Trelan mused on its origin as he searched thoroughly the area surrounding.

The tell-tale signs of passage were detected quickly as he traced the path of flight, although he might have missed them had he not at last found a lead, for Raniean was loath to give up but resigned to the fact that they must be going the wrong way, and it was time to regroup with the other search parties.

They had tracked their would-be murderer to the edges of Mirkwood, and there the parties had fanned out, some even doubling back at the dubious idea their assassin had left the woods completely without finishing their task.

Raniean and Trelan had moved forward on a strange, gut-feeling of Trelan's that their assassin had, indeed, kept going. Now, he was right, and he wished he wasn't.

The trail led, if it continued as it was, up into the mountains, and a nightmare job had just gotten tenfold worse.

Running a stress-weary hand through his hair, he sighed, then jutted out his chin and headed for his friend, determined to see this thing through.

Raniean had moved around to search around, but he was also slightly off the trail and therefore was having no success. When Trelan came up to him, he himself let out a dejected sigh and turned to his friend.

"It's no use, Trelan." He had come this far trusting Trelan's instincts alone, but he was beginning to doubt that they had been right. "Whoever it was, they've vanished, or they weren't heading this way at all." Raniean's tone said he not only thought, but had started to believe the latter.

Wordlessly and in answer, Trelan shoved the torn fabric at his friend. Raniean took it, quirking a curious brow. He turned it around in his hand, studying it.

"Reports said the assassin was wearing a black veil over her face." Trelan pointed out after a moment. "Granted, it's torn and only a small piece, and I'm not an expert in textiles, but it feels a lot like my mother's or my aunts' veils."

Raniean nodded and made a considering noise. It was true; his mother's veils had similar textures. But were they on to something or was it a fluke? Were they scurrying up the wrong tree, so to speak, and it had nothing to do with their assassin?

As if already knowing what was going through his friend's head, Trelan took Raniean's arm and pulled him back the way he had come. There, he pointed out the tracks.

"Unfortunately," he began, reluctant to drop the other shoe, "they seem to lead to the mountains."

Raniean straightened and stared off toward the Misty Mountains, a thoughtful look on his face. "Do you still believe," he said after a moment, "that you are on the right trail?"

His quiet voice was carefully measured, and gave away nothing. Still, at least there wasn't any doubt tingeing it.

"Yes." Trelan answered without hesitation or a second thought.

"Tracking will be close to impossible the higher up you go, if she hasn't already tried to throw you off in the foothills."

"Hard, but not impossible." Trelan acknowledged. Of the two of them, he was the better mountain tracker, and he had reason to suspect the "you" in Ran's words wasn't general, but specific.

"No, of course not." Raniean turned away from the mountain view. "But what of our duty to the protection of Legolas?"

Ah, so Ran was still thinking of turning back. Trelan shook his head. "His guard has already been doubled, if not tripled, knowing His Highness. And what of our duty to tracking down whoever it is after his life?"

When Raniean made no response but simply looked away, indecision and conflicting responsibilities warring on his face, Trelan soughed something even his friend's sharp ears couldn't catch. "We can't protect him, Ran, by letting his would-be killer walk free. We need to find her while the trail is still somewhat fresh and she doesn't have a chance to recuperate and come up with another plan."

"And we can't protect him by running all over those mountains, Trey."

"And I say we can't protect him by going back, either." Trelan snapped. They didn't fight often, but tensions were already running high and their stress and worry had done nothing to help.

They stayed at that impasse for a long moment, and Trelan was the first to back down, letting out a sigh.

"Forgive me," he said, "but I simply cannot go back now. I've come this far, and I know I have to continue on. If you have to go back, then go. I will not stop you."

A tiny muscle jumped in Ran's jaw, but he said nothing. Trelan made it sound like he was abandoning the pursuit, and that rubbed him the wrong way.

"You do what you feel you have to." Trelan said by way of a peace offering. "My gut tells me to go. One of us needs to follow her, and I will gladly do so."

Raniean blew out a heavy breath, then looked his friend in the eye. Trelan's instincts on these things were rarely wrong, and he had been right about their trail, even when Ran just couldn't see it. He had trusted his friend thus far; there was no reason to stop now. But his heart, his own instinct, was to return to the palace.

Trelan studied him closely, and he knew his friend read as much in his gaze. After a moment, Trelan nodded in understanding.

"Then this is where we part ways." Trelan shrugged. "But here, take it with you." He nodded at the torn fabric he had given the taller elf earlier. Raniean had been agitatedly worrying it in his hands for the past few minutes.

"You can ask Legolas if he recognises it when you arrive." He said it like receiving confirmation or denial was the logical course.

Really, it was only a reminder that Trelan's gut hadn't lied.

-0-

After half a day, Trelan had passed through the foothills and began his ascent into the Misty Mountains. By late evening, he had long been on his trail, and was high up in the rocky terrains of the mountains. He drove himself hard, trying to close the distance on his prince's assassin, chafing at the head start she had on him.

By dusk of the following day, he had found his trail was quickly growing cold, and he had little more to go on than his instincts. Sometimes, they were very strong; sometimes, nearly nonexistent and he had to just keep going on faith, which wasn't a bad thing, but the going was slow.

Now, as he knelt to study a confusing bunch of tracks, he swore the Valar were testing his abilities and his tenacity. Someone had been through the area; a large group of someones, obviously; but had his assassin passed this way, or merely mountain men at some point or another?

He heard the scrabbling, his hackles rising, but the warning came too late. Someone had lain in wait for him, and he had unwittingly walked right into their sights.

As pain exploded in beneath his jaw, the last thing he knew as he blacked out as a woman's voice raised in protest. "No! I told—"

-0-

"No! I told you _not_ to hurt him!" Eglanóleth was furious.

First, these halfwit human dogs left a trail a blind cat could follow. They were a surly, loose lot made worse by their alcohol consumption the night before and their lack of female company. They jumped at the slightest provocation and were eager to waylay anyone.

It would have been better if they had let her damned cousin just go on through; he wouldn't have known he had lost her trail until it was too late to do anything but either turn back or go on to Rivendell.

Now, his presence presented a problem for her, not only because she knew why he was here, but because now his attack would have to somehow be finagled so he wouldn't suspect her, if possible. Cursing the loss of her first plan, to just let him go on, she resisted the urge to kick him in the ribs then and there and get the next few minutes over with.

"Why?" Sar demanded, glaring down with some disgust at the elf he'd knocked unconscious. Several of the others drifted closer, murmuring their dispassionate agreements. "He's an elf. We don't like elves." Sar sniffed disdainfully at her.

"He's my cousin is why, you idiot. It will bring suspicion to me if you do; I'll already have a time of it now, convincing him I…" She shook her head, breaking off. Scowling, she snapped. "It's none of your business. Take his weapons."

Sar did so without question, knowing the logic of it, but not without grumbling about witchy she-elves. He had finished when the elf began to softly stir.

"Now go." She ordered coldly. "I'll handle this, and whatever is said, if you have any brains at all, you'll play along with."

She sat on her haunches beside her cousin, watching him as he came around. His brows drew together as the headache he had came to the fore, a quiet moan passing his lips. Then familiar blue eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding them. After a moment, awareness flickered, sharpening his gaze.

As that happened, she laid a hand on his arm and his gaze met hers. "Are you hurt?" she whispered, injecting concern and a slight wobble into her voice.

"Lano!" He hissed. "What is going on?" He glanced suspiciously at the men who had moved off but a short ways.

Eglanóleth sniffed. "Please, remain still Trelan." She said quietly. "They are allowing me to see to you because we are both elves, and if that man hurt you…" She paused, biting her lip.

"But _what_ is going on?" Trelan demanded again, trying to sit up.

She pushed him back down. "Lie still, I told you."

He did as bidden, if for no other reason than the pounding in his head, but then he stared at her intently, voice low and wary when he spoke again. "Lano, _why_ are you here?"

"If you must know," she said, "I followed the assassin from the palace and I got captured by these men." Again, she injected disdain that wasn't forced into her voice, making a show as she did of hovering over him worriedly, although it was obviously he did not seem too addled by the hit: probably nothing worse than a killer of a headache, at most.

"What were you doing near the palace?" Still, his voice was chary.

"Ever since you showed me the gardens, I have enjoyed walking in them." She averted her eyes. "I was hoping…" she paused self-consciously, and Trelan groaned, thinking she was going to say she was hoping to run into Legolas. "I was hoping I would not have to return home."

"And why is that?" Trelan's eyes kept flickering to the men, but they didn't seem to be taking much interest in the two of them outside of making sure they didn't try anything. Now, he turned his full attention on his cousin, caught off guard at this admission.

She looked away once more. "Because…my parents do not approve of my choice."

"What?" Trelan felt like he was missing something.

"My choice of partner." She blinked, as if it should have been obvious.

"And who would that be?" He asked, praying it wasn't one of his friends.

"I cannot tell you. He is not from Mirkwood." She sat back on her heels, causing the dark veil she wore to flutter and settle on her shoulder, framing her face.

The veil struck something in Trelan's memory and he studied it closely, a frown creasing her brow. All thoughts of marriage and bigotry went out of his head as his eyes zeroed in on a tear. A niggling thought pushed at the edge of his memory, and if only he could remember better past the ache in his head…. He reached out and touched the veil she had pinned to her hair.

Something cold and calculating flashed across Lano's face, but he gave it no second thoughts as he struggled to place the veil and its familiarity. Fuzzily, he recalled Raniean, handing him a torn swatch of…of black veil. A swatch he had found on the trail of the assassin. A swatch that matched the tear in Lano's veil.

He recoiled, staring at her as he scrambled back to gain his feet. "You!" he hissed, his head spinning with the revelation. "You tried to assassinate Legolas! You _traitor_!" He spat the word, reaching for his weapons as several of the men came toward them, alarmed by his sudden flurry of movement.

Eglanóleth cursed again and flew at him, landing another sharp blow to the pressure point beneath his ear. Already unsteady and his pounding head made worse by everything that had happened, he moved too slowly to stop the swipe, and dropped again like a sack as he blacked out.

"It is too late for you," she hissed coldly to him. "Tie him up, take him back to camp. He is not to be harmed, for he has further uses." She ordered the men around her, glaring closely at Sar. She recognised a sadist when she saw one, and knew the man wouldn't hesitate to take advantage.

Then, she set off to find a few roots and plants she knew were around the area and would prove to be helpful in debilitating her strong-willed, traitorous cousin.


	3. Chapter 3

Between the Lines

Eglanóleth found herself running once more. If she had the breath for it, she would have snorted at the irony. Was nowhere safe? Glancing back, she let out a sob and put on extra speed. She could see the pillars to the bridge up ahead; if she could reach that bridge she would be on elven land and the Imladris guard would protect her. She hoped.

Bregeduron watched the girl run towards him. She would not know of his presence, though he knew of hers, for he was well hid within the surrounding foliage. He took note at her travel-stained and torn clothing, the stumbling gait she used to run his way. As she came closer he could see she was crying and gasping, and kept looking behind her.

Following that look he could see three men on horseback chasing her down, and they did not look happy. The girl finally made it to the bridge, collapsing against the stone pillar and crawling onto the stone and wood walk. She lay against the stone trying to catch her breath. Bregeduron noticed how thin she was, how the clothing hung from her frame and she carried no burdens.

As the three horsemen arrived he made himself known, landing in a crouch at the head of the bridge, his sword ready.

"Halt!" He said forcefully in the common tongue. "What business do you have with this woman?"

"She is a thief, and in Tasride we cut off a thieves' hand." Seaver replied. He and the other two had been chosen for this job as they had not been involved in the incident concerning these haughty Rivendell elves.

Bregeduron looked at the girl, who still lay in a heap sobbing, and back to the men. "She carries nothing."

"She dropped her stolen items back there." Seaver jerked his head. "When we began the chase. Little wench thought we would not notice food and trinkets missing."

"Tasride?" Bregeduron asked, frowning. He knew of the village, and it certainly was not prosperous in the least. The poor horse flesh and shoddy clothing these men wore backed up their story of being from the pitiable village.

"Please!" Eglanóleth called out in Sindarin to her elven protector. "I was only hungry and had no weapons to hunt."

Bregeduron looked to her, taking in the tearful, pleading look she returned. Her lank, dirty hair had fallen back and he could see she was not just a woman, but a female elf. She certainly was not from Rivendell, he knew, for anyone with such striking eyes he would have remembered.

"She says she was merely hungry."

"Then she should have asked. We are not cruel, and will share our meagre food with passing strangers. This one made her way into the village last night and was caught red-handed stealing from the storehouse, and our good leader's house."

"More than food?" Bregeduron asked.

Seaver pulled out a sack and handed it over to the elf. It contained bread, cheese and a few skimpy looking various vegetables, as well as a few pieces of fairly nice looking jewellery. They looked to be old, and Bregeduron suspected they were family heirlooms passed from the head man's mother for the man's present or future wife.

Bregeduron handed the sack back to the man. "She is now on elven land. You cannot lay hand upon her. You have your items returned to you, there is no more to be done."

"But she is a thief and must reap the consequences of that which she sows. Thieves lose a hand."

"And I said, she is on elven land. You may not cross this boundary unless you plan to bring the wrath of the elves upon you. I shall take her to my lord and explain the situation, and she will be dealt with accordingly."

Seaver's horse pranced, as if she was transferring the man's uncertainty to her own feet. Reining her in, Seaver looked back at his two companions. In silent agreement they wheeled their horses around and galloped away abruptly, leaving a cloud of dust behind them.

Bregeduron turned to the girl and nudged her with his boot. She whimpered and tried to crawl away from him.

"Please…" She said, her voice harsh from the dust and her run.

"What is your name?" Bregeduron asked sharply. He did not trust this girl, whether she was truly a thief or not. Something about her didn't set well with him, though what he could not name.

"Lano…Eglanóleth." She began to cough, a long, harsh sound that racked her entire frame. If anything she was dehydrated, Bregeduron surmised.

"Where are you from?"

"I am…of Mirkwood." She replied slowly. "I was. I left my parents home for love."

Bregeduron rolled his eyes. That was the stupidest excuse he had heard from anyone requesting entrance to the valley. About to turn her out he was interrupted by the sound of unshod horse hooves. It was not long before the cause of the sound came into view.

"My Lord." Bregeduron bowed to the elf upon the horse. He wasn't surprised to see his lord on the way out, as he had been restless as a caged lion for weeks.

"What is this?" He peered down at the person. Dismounting, he waited for an answer.

"An elleth, my Lord. She came requesting sanctuary, as she is believed to have stolen from the village of Tasride."

"Stolen?" The elf looked at her again, noting all the same things Bregeduron had, from her dirty, worn clothing to her emaciated form and the lank hair. Cowering, she looked to him and he gasped. Tenderly reaching out a hand he began to gently undo a knot in her hair, smiling all the while.

Those eyes. He remembered those eyes quite well, though it had been months since he had seen them. She tentatively reached out a hand and caught his own, examining the ring he wore. Looking up into his face, she gave a timid smile in return.

"Elladan." She croaked. He tenderly scooped her into his arms and placed her on the horse, not letting go until he was sure of her position. When she was steady he climbed up behind her. Looking down at Bregeduron, his face became stern once more.

"Back to your post. Next time, leave the interrogations to me, my father or brother." Clicking his tongue Elladan told his mount to head back home, lightly digging his boot into her side to turn her.

Bregeduron frowned as they rode away. He did not care what Elladan thought, even if he was the Lord of Imladris's son. That girl could not be trusted, and the chase that had brought her here seemed far too planned for him, especially at how easily the men had given up. He intended to keep an eye on her.

-o-

Seaver and his two companions made their way back to the group, pleased with their success. Upon arriving, Taurdur simply gave them a look.

"She is in."

"Good. Now we wait."

"But for how long?" Sîrlin asked.

"Until she gives the signal, stupid. She has to get in with the big boys, those prissy elves who govern that valley."

"As long as it happens before I die of old age. Hope she remembers that elves live a hell of a lot longer." Sar spat on the ground.

"Eglanóleth knows what she is doing." Taurdur replied.

"So you say."

"Yes, so I say. Care to challenge my authority?" Taurdur had his knife at Sar's throat before the man could move.

"Not in the least." The man swallowed convulsively.

"Good. Now break camp. We head towards Cabal Hall in an hour."

-o-

"Lano, dearest, what brings you here?" Elladan asked as they headed towards the main house. He wanted his father, the best known elf healer, to check her over.

"I ran away." She coughed and winced. Her throat felt so dry. "My parents would not allow me to come here, so I took matters into my own hands."

"Will they not worry?"

"They only…keep me close because…I disappeared when I was younger. It was months before I was found by the hunters wandering in the southern woods with no memory." Eglanóleth was not exactly lying. She had been discovered by the hunters, but her memory had been intact. It had simply been a ploy to keep suspicion at bay, what with her master being so distrusted by the royal family.

"Did you…come here for me?" Elladan asked, not daring to hope the answer would be affirmative.

"Why else would I leave my home? I love you, Elladan." Eglanóleth knew this also was not a complete lie. She did feel something for the handsome elf, but at this stage he was simply a pawn in getting what she wanted.

-o-

Trelan groaned and stirred. He recognised this mode of travel, thrown over a horse. He had been through it once before. Raising his head slightly he saw the man that had first attacked him. He could feel that he was bound with very tight ropes he had no hope of loosing, and feared his destination and what might happen there. He did not know whose lap he was thrown across, but it was terribly uncomfortable.

It was not long before his carrier realised he had woken and called a halt. Two others reached up and slid the elf down, purposely shaking him dizzy. They dropped him on the ground a little ways off from the horses. As Trelan lay there blinking and trying to figure out his surroundings, a face appeared above him, blocking off the light.

Trelan looked up at the man, not recognising him. The man gave him a disconcertingly malevolent grin and knelt beside him. Removing a small, but very sharp knife the man cut the ropes, then wrenched Trelan's sleeve up to his elbow and turned his arm. He then used the knife to make a small, shallow cut on Trelan's forearm, which made the elf flinch. The man snapped his fingers and another came over with a small flask and handed it to the first.

"My name is Taurdur, and I am your worst nightmare." He grinned at the elf again. Taking a small square of cloth, he wet it slightly, but did not soak it, and applied it to the cut. Trelan hissed as it made contact. "Not sure what's in this stuff, the she-elf made it. Flowers and things. But she assures me it will do the trick."

"Why are you doing this?" Trelan asked, his eyes flashing in fury as he struggled. His arm was starting to burn and he looked down to see a rash appearing wherever the liquid had touched him.

"Because I can." Taurdur replied, unfazed. "In a few minutes, that struggling will do you no good." He made a second cut on Trelan's thigh and applied more of the fiery fluid. The area around the first cut was already going numb, and his fingers stopped working on that hand.

"Don't forget that other stuff she left us…those root things and flowers." Sar handed Taurdur a mess of bruised plants. Taking them Taurdur forced pieces of them into the elf's mouth and quickly followed with a bit of water, then held his nose to make him swallow. Taurdur was not sure what any of it did beyond what the girl had told him, but he did know how to administer it to an unwilling captive.

Though he struggled and refused, eventually the poisons were dealt and Trelan could feel them beginning to work. The paralysis began first, slowly spreading over his body. His stomach was clenching with cramps and he felt the urge to retch, yet his mouth and throat had gone numb. His last coherent thoughts were that he had to hand it to Eglanóleth, she certainly knew how to torture someone. Soon enough he began seeing things, ghostly figures and leering faces and all proper thinking fled him.

Taurdur smiled grimly. "Pack him up. He is not going anywhere but where we take him for a long while."

-o-

It had been three days since Raniean had left Trelan at the foot of the Misty Mountains' foothills. And now, as the sun set, Ran was quickly growing worried. If Trelan had found nothing, or the trail had grown too cold to follow, he would have turned back. He _should_ have been back by now.

As he made his way to Thranduil's Halls in answer to the summons he had received, he mused over what he was going to say when he spoke to Trelan's parents about his missing presence. The worry was enough for him; he hated delivering bad news, especially if he had to speak to Trelan's mother.

Toying with the cloth Trelan had left with him, he turned his quandary over and warred with his own concerns, torn between two conflicting duties: the one of staying and the other of searching for his friend. He had found the swatch of veil scrunched up with his discarded clothing that morning and on a whim had decided to see if Trelan's fears and instincts were correct and Legolas did recognise the cloth. He still wasn't sold on it belonging to the assassin, but figured it was better than nothing, since he was going that way anyway.

When he arrived at the main gate, Raniean hesitated before nodding to the guards and heading in. He wasn't sure why he had been summoned, what with having already taken his guard shift (Legolas was as restless as a caged ferret in hunting season), and likely it was nothing to fret about. But it was worrying all the same.

He was shown into the throne room, to his surprise. An even bigger shock was the presence of Trelan's father. Raniean had hoped for a little more time before talking to them.

"I am at your command, Sire." Raniean gave the proper bow to his king, and then turned to Telrayn and bowed to him as well.

"Ah, yes. Please sit, Raniean." Thranduil indicated the third chair. "Drink?"

"No thank you, your highness." Raniean twisted his hands together beneath the table. Normally he wasn't this nervous in front of his king, but with recent happenings as they were and his worries for his friend, he was quite tense.

"Relax, young one." Thranduil eyed the young sentinel, noting his jumpy demeanour. "Telrayn here says you and young Trelan pursued another path beyond our borders after our assassin."

"Yes, Sire, we did. As far as the foothills of the mountains. Trelan requested to continue, as he is quite skilled at mountain tracking. I returned here in case our assassin had doubled back."

"This was three days ago that you left him?"

"Yes, Sire."

"And he would return if he found something, or did not." Telrayn mused. "You gave him the permission freely, without argument? You are his superior in rank."

"Well, I did argue that we should both return, but he gave some good points as to why he should be allowed to continue." He did not mention that Trelan felt he was on to something and he, Raniean, was not so certain. He had felt his energies would be better focused here. "After a small discussion, we agreed I would return."

"As you have." Thranduil nodded. "But he has not."

"Might I speak freely, Sire?"

"You may."

Raniean took a deep breath. "Trelan would not have been away this long. The minute he found signs of our quarry he would have returned. I fear that…I fear he may have run into trouble, and I request permission to search."

Thranduil traded a look with Telrayn. Both had suspected as much. Turning to the younger elf, Thranduil sighed. "I cannot allow that. I summoned you here for a reason." He held up a hand when Raniean seemed about to protest. "I will allow a squad out to see what they can scout, but you will not be in it."

"Then I shall." Legolas stepped out of the shadows in the entryway. He had come in belatedly to his summons and upon finding them in discussion had paused to listen.

Thranduil stood up, causing Telrayn and Raniean to follow. "Legolas, you will not! I absolutely forbid it."

"Father, this is one of my friends, one of our own soldiers. If Raniean is not allowed, then I must go."

"No, because Raniean is remaining here to be your personal guard. I do not want such an incident to happen again. If you had not seen the drug, you very well could be dead." Thranduil's face showed little emotion, but his eyes begged Legolas to understand. "Telrayn, you may choose a squad of ten trackers and scouts to search. They will be looking for signs of our assassin and your son."

"If I may, Sire?" Telrayn hesitated.

"Go ahead."

"My niece, Eglanóleth, is missing as well, since the night of the incident. If we come by her trail, might I pursue a search? It is my wife's sister's daughter, and they have been fretting."

"Eglanóleth?" Thranduil looked at Telrayn in confusion. "Is she not the one who went missing during Doriflen's exiling?"

"Yes, your highness. She was discovered without a memory of the past months she had been gone, and that something may happen again concerns us."

"Father, I refuse–" Legolas began until Thranduil shot him a dark look.

"Fine then, Telrayn. You may pursue search if signs are found of her passage. You are dismissed." He turned to Raniean. "You are to guard Legolas closely, night and day. He is not to leave the palace grounds."

"As you say, Sire." Raniean bowed.

"Father!" Legolas said, outraged. His fury was evident in his voice. As if everything else wasn't bad enough, now he was being confined?

"Legolas, you could have been killed. I will take no chances of that happening again." Thranduil said coldly. "I have lost your mother and sister already, I do not need to lose you as well. Or was your uncle and Dorolyn not enough for you?"

Legolas glared at his father, hating him just then for bringing up such painful pasts. Turning on his heel he left the room. Raniean executed a hurried bow to the king and followed his charge.

Raniean followed Legolas to the indoor archery ranges where Legolas proceeded to take his anger out on the targets. Ran waited silently, watching, until Legolas finally put the bow down. The prince turned to his friend, a sad look upon his fair features.

"This is not fair in the least." Legolas sighed heavily.

"Little in life is, Legolas." Raniean replied.

"We cannot – I cannot – just stay here out of harm's way, waiting for news."

"But you must, else you are going against the king."

"I cannot! He is my friend, our friend. When everyone else had given up, he helped you to find me. He has been by my side since we were young."

"That as may be, but—what is this?" Raniean pulled the cloth he had once more forgotten from his tunic.

"What is that?" Legolas took the material. "I recognise this. My attacker was wearing this over her face. Where did you get it?"

And there was the confirmation that Trelan hadn't been wrong. Raniean withheld a sigh at Legolas's unintentional doubling of his burden. "Trelan gave it to me, before he left me at the mountains. I was supposed to ask you about it."

"Well, you have now. Where did he find it? Can you show me?"

"Legolas, we cannot leave the palace!"

"Says who?"

"Your father, my king."

Legolas gave Raniean a long look. "If he does not know we left, then there is no problem."

"We will be seen."

"No we will not, not if we leave by the windows at the back of the kitchen stores room. They are close to the trees and we can go through until we are out of patrol range."

Raniean looked at Legolas, shocked. His prince had obviously either thought about this a lot, or actually done it at some point. "But Legolas…"

"Are you coming? You were given orders to protect me. In order to do so, it helps if you are by my side."

"I…yes, I will come. Someone has to do the thinking for you, after all."

Quietly the two went to their respective chambers to pack items they would need for their foray into the forest. They met outside the kitchen stores room and quickly, quietly, left the halls.


End file.
